Poison and Wine
by divergentandproudofit
Summary: In a world where each District is divided into 5 factions, it's hard to be free. When Katniss Everdeen, a young Abnegation girl from District 12, volunteers for her sister Prim in the Hunger Games, she's sure she's going to die. After all, there have only been five victors from 12. One is dead, one is drunk, one is distant, one is Dauntless. And one is Peeta Mellark.
1. Chapter 1

_You only know what I want you to_  
_I know everything you don't want me to_  
_Oh your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine_  
_You think your dreams are the same as mine_

**-Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars**

* * *

**Katniss**

I wake before anyone else, in the wee hours of morning when even the mockingjays do not sing.

My father used to sing to me, when he took me out into the woods to hunt.  
But he is dead now, killed in a mine accident with some of the Dauntless miners, helping to get the others to safety.

The Dauntless faction values bravery, but our faction, Abnegation, values selflessness.

But there's not much that me, my mother, and my sister Primrose can do to help. Our District, District Twelve, is one of the poorest districts, and my family isn't very well off, either. My mother says that we should still share what we have, because there are some who have even less than we do.

I try to be selfless like she is. I try.

I slide out of bed, careful not to wake my mother, who sleeps on the other side of the room, and Prim, who must've had nightmares and climbed in with her.

Well, of course she did.

Today is Reaping day.

Every year, one girl and one boy between the ages of 12 and 16 from each district are chosen to fight to the death on live TV. They can be from any faction, but it's usually the Abnegation and Dauntless who volunteer to show their selflessness or bravery.

The catch: the tesserae, extra grain and oil for a year in exchange for having your name in extra times. I have had to do this for myself and each member of my family. And the entries are cumulative. Now, at the age of 16, I will have my name in 20 times.

I'm not worried for Prim, of course. Her name's only in there once, since it's her first year and I wouldn't let her take out any tesserae.

It's me I'm worried about. And I am selfish for doing so.

I slip on a simple gray outfit and my soft, worn leather boots, shouldering my game bag. It is selfish, I know, to kill wild animals for eating, but it is more selfish to let my family starve. Ever since my father died in the mines, five years ago, I have done what I had to do to keep my family alive.

Here, you must take care not to go against the rules of your faction or the Capitol.

I leave the house, ducking through alleyways and streets, until I am running like I would never be allowed to on my own quiet Abnegation street. I reach the Meadow and pause, taking a moment to listen for the hum that means the fence is live.

The fence that surrounds District Twelve is supposed to be electrified 24/7. it was placed here to 'keep the wild animals out'. It's true purpose is to keep us in. But since we're lucky if we get a few hours of electricity in the evenings, it's as silent as the gray stones that represent Abnegation at the Choosing Ceremony.

Every after the Hunger Games are over, each 16 year old has to choose which one of the five factions they will spend the rest of their life in: Erudite, the intelligent, Candor, the honest, Amity, the kind, Dauntless, the brave, and Abnegation, the selfless.

If I don't get reaped, I will have to Choose in about a month. I'm not looking forward to it.

I slide through a hole in the fence, retrieve my bow and arrows from a hollow log, and head further into the woods, where my best friend Gale awaits me.

"Hey, Catnip," he says, using his special nickname for me. I grin. "Hey, Gale."

He says I never smile except in the woods, and that's because there's not much to smile about outside of them. In the woods, we don't have to be District Twelve. We don't have to be Dauntless and Abnegation.

We are just Katniss and Gale.

That's all we've ever been and all we ever will be.

**So what do you think? Review please.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Katniss**

We come up with a pretty good haul: a few rabbits, a squirrel, some fish, and half a gallon of wild strawberries. As we walk back from the woods, Gale says softly, "we could do it, you know."

"Do what?" I reply, perplexed.

"Take off, live in the woods. You and I, we could make it."

I don't know what to think. So I say the first thing that comes to mind. "They'd catch us, cut out our tongues, make us factionless. We wouldn't make it five miles. And what about our families?"

"They can come too."

I smile. "Prim in the woods?" The idea is just so ridiculous. Prim cries if she catches me skinning a rabbit, and she wept to save a mangy, ugly cat.

At least she fits in with the rest of our faction, which is more than I can say about myself.

I am not as selfless as I should be, no matter how hard I try.

"Well, maybe not," says Gale thoughtfully and almost a little sadly.

"I'm never having kids," I say. If I did, they would have to face the Reaping each year, and the endless starvation that threatens to overwhelm us all.

"I might, if I didn't live here," Gale replies, pulling off his black Dauntless jacket and slinging his game bag over his shoulder.

"But you do live here," I remind him.

"Forget it," he snaps back, annoyed.

This conversation feels wrong. Leave? How would we survive without a faction, divorced from society? We've all seen it. The factionless, who failed to complete initiation into their chosen faction, wander the streets. Dirt poor, they do all the work that nobody else wants to do. In return, they get food and clothing, but, my mother says, not enough.

And where did all this stuff about having kids come from? Gale and I are just friends. But could we be more, if I opened that door? We are from different factions, but the rules say that people of two different factions can marry after one takes the other's faction and a hassling amount of paperwork.

We do not talk all the way to the Hob, where we do most of our trading.

After picking up some bandages for my mother, who is a healer, and a bit of salt for dinner tonight, Gale and I separate.

"See you soon," I say.

"Wear something pretty," he replies, and I have to stifle a snort. In my faction, there is no 'pretty'. We must not waste time playing with our reflections, as we must always project outward and think of others before ourselves.

I try to love it.

When I get home, I deposit my game bag on the kitchen table and walk straight over to Prim, who sits on the edge of our bed.

"You look _beautiful,"_ I tell her, kneeling on the floor in front of her. "But you better tuck in that tail, Little Duck." I fix the blouse that hangs over the edge of her skirt, forming a ducktail.

"Mom laid something out for you too," Prim says, indicating the gray dress that lies on the bed.

I look over at our mother, who has buisied herself with organizing the medicine in her cabinet.

"Thank you," I say.

I am selfish, so selfish. I have still not forgiven her for something that was beyond her control- the crushing depression she had after the death of my father. Prim and I almost starved to death while she sat for days and days, just staring at the wall. That's when I began to hunt.

I bathe quickly and dress in the gray dress, pinning my hair up in the back. I smile at Prim, standing behind me in the one small mirror we have in our house. I look okay- not pretty, exactly, but at least clean, not like I just came from the woods.

The authorities would kill me if they ever found out.

They must not find out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Katniss**

Prim clasps my hand tightly as we walk to the Reaping among a crowd of other Abnegation members, our feet all pounding to the same rhythm, always projecting outward. It is stiflingly hot, and already the back of my neck and dress are drenched in sweat. I am once again thinking of myself.

I catch sight of Gale in the distance, walking his brother Rory, who's the same age as Prim, to the Reaping, although he himself is too old. He has another brother and a sister, too, but they are too young to be eligible to die.

Prim lets out a small whimper, and stops walking, letting everyone else flow around us like a river of people.

"What?" I say, somewhat harshly. There is a punishment for being late to the Reaping, and Prim is too old to be babied.

"Katniss..." My sister says, sniffling and glancing around nervously. "I'm scared. What if I-"

"Prim. It won't happen." I kneel down in front of her, tucking in the blouse that has again formed a duck tail and wiping the tears from her eyes. "Alright?" I mentally curse myself for not walking her through the process earlier- she has no idea what to expect. "When we check in, they're going to prick your finger and draw just a little blood-"

"You never said-"

"Shh. It doesn't hurt. You'll be completely safe. It's only your first year. They're not going to pick you."

The Reaping is an easy way to keep tabs on the population- they can find out who is in what faction, how many people there are, and who has grown too old for the Games. It is just another part of the Capitol's control over us, the yoke they have slipped around all of our necks.

I want to help her more but I don't know how. Wait- I do. I finger the little gold mockingjay pin in the pocket of my plain grey dress. Madge Undersee, the Mayor's daughter and my only friend besides Gale, gave it to me as a gift on the day of our own first Reaping. I refused to take it at first, insisting it would be selfish of me to accept such a beautiful gift, but she wouldn't take I back.

"For luck," she had said, pinning it to my blouse- the same one that Prim wears now- and smoothing down the front of her pretty blue Erudite dress.

I pull it out of my pocket and fasten it over her heart, repeating Madge's words. "For luck."

"Where'd you get _that?"_ Prim asks, wide eyed, but I only shake my head.

"It doesn't matter. Now c'mon, let's go. We don't want to be late." I pull her after me all the way to the check in station.

After we sign in, we split up. I go towards the front, where the sixteens stand, while she heads for the back with the rest of the twelves.

"See you soon," I say with a small smile and a wave.

Two o'clock comes too soon, and the square is sweating and silent. Effie Trinket, the woman in blinding outfits who comes every year to read out the names, taps on the microphone. There are no factions in the Capitol, which I find strange- how do they divide up the work and the clothing? Maybe, they are so silly and shallow because they favor no virtues and do not strive to be better.

This year Effie is in bright pink with a wig to match, and she looks ridiculous. I resist the urge to turn around and find Gale in the crowd- only some of us are eligible but the rest must bear witness.

There are some people, either those who have no one at stake or those who no longer care, who take bets on who the tribute will be- what faction? Seam or merchant? Will they cry?

Usually, the Dauntless and Abnegation are tributes, volunteering to prove their selflessness or their bravery. But here, in Twelve, volunteers are all but extinct. After all, in the history of the Games, their have only been five Victors from Twelve. One is dead. One is drunk. Two are Dauntless. And one, Peeta Mellark, the baker's son, who won just last year.

Effie welcomes us all to the Reaping, wishing us a "happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor."

I tune out the boring video on the history of Panel and the factions that they show every year.

And then, it's time. She reaches her hand with its pink, perfectly manicured nails into the big glass Reaping ball filled with girls' names, and it's so quiet you can hear a pin drop.

I'm nervous, frightened, so desperately hoping that it isn't me, isn't me, that I'm safe to live out the rest of my life without a death threat over my head, oh God oh God oh God...

And it's not me, of course it isn't.

The name of the unlucky girl is

"Primrose Everdeen."


End file.
